


Please Back Away, Don't Let Me Go

by GlassAlice



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bittersweet Ending, Fidgeting, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, adhd emotional dysregulation, i needed some pain so i wrote this, no one is the bad guy, sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 03:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14323683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassAlice/pseuds/GlassAlice
Summary: What is the perfect love confession?  A grand gesture, an intimate moment, or maybe a casual realization? Lance wished any of those options were his reality. Anything besides this.





	Please Back Away, Don't Let Me Go

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a bad day in a relationship, a moment in time when things are more thorns than flower petals. This piece is one night of a full and complex relationship in the view point of someone who has their own baggage to work through. Every relationship has its ups and downs, this is one of the downs. Enjoy.

Work was draining, but today was one of the worst. All Lance wanted to do was come home, drop onto the couch, and snuggle with his boyfriends. They’d watch some Netflix, maybe order Thai food, and if Lance whined just enough he might even get a neck rub out of Shiro.

Allowing the thoughts to ease the tension from his body, Lance turned the key and stepped into their apartment. The lights were off, but the sound of the TV turned low let him know someone was here. "Hey, I'm home," Lance called out, the words coming out softer than he'd intended.

No answer.

He dropped his bag on the floor, kicked off his shoes, and locked the door behind him. He'd get crap from Shiro later for dumping all his stuff in the middle of the walkway, but it was worth it if it meant getting to the cuddles faster.

Making his way to the living room, Lance noticed Keith first. Wild, black hair and Shiro's sweater hanging half off his shoulder to reveal pale skin, Keith was locked tightly in their boyfriend's embrace. Normally, Lance was fine with their paired displays of affection; hell, sometimes Lance was in the mood to watch. But after the day he had today, it felt like his fragile emotions were on their last thread.

Tension gripped his shoulders once again and a dull throb at the base of his skull forewarned of an oncoming headache. Echoes of angry customers hurling obscenities and spewing insults pounded in his head; leaving Lance exposed, bruised, and beaten. The scene in front of him wasn’t related to the wave of malaise that tore through the last of his self worth, he knew that. He shouldn’t project toxic costumers onto his boyfriend's sweet scene, but when a stranger calls you every vicious thing you’ve ever despised about yourself, it’s hard to let it go.

 _Just go over there and join them._ He urged his feet to move, but self-doubt cemented him to the floor.

"I'm home," he whispered, voice hitching.

The only response was Shiro lifting Keith onto his lap.

Maybe he wasn't needed here. Maybe three really was a crowd. Shiro and Keith were a thing long before Lance showed up. He couldn’t deny the years of chemistry that simmered and matured between them. It was impossible to look past what the two of them built and compare it to the fresh, untested relationship that included himself. He was thankful that Shiro and Keith painstakingly carved out little places for Lance in their lives, in their hearts-- but looking at the pair of them together, pressed close. There was no room for him now, no space he could squeeze into.

Lance took a hesitant step back. There was no point in interrupting, no way Lance could survive being dismissed or rejected. Best to leave them be. He'd steal another of Shiro's sweaters and some of Keith's sweatpants to sleep in as payback for their makeout session without him.

"I love you," Shiro's soft voice shot across the room like a thunderbolt, striking his heart. Lance froze, body suddenly very far away.

Keith pulled back from Shiro, lips swollen and glistening in the light of the TV. His eyes were wide before fluttering closed, "I think... I love you, too." It was soft and delicate, everything Lance imagined a moment like this to be. Except when Lance imagined this one pivotal moment, this world-changing declaration, he was saying it too.

It wasn't until a splash landed on Lance's hand that he realized he was crying. It took even longer to realize that two sets of wide eyes were fixed on him.

Lance sucked in a shuddering breath as his heart dropped to his stomach and the world blurred. Betrayal and hurt hijacked his body, un-gluing his feet from the floor. He ran. Too scared to look back, to see the pity on their faces. Keith’s voice followed him out the door calling for him to wait. He half expected to be stopped, to be pulled back in, but Shiro’s calm voice broke through the storm in his head. “Keith, please, we need to talk.” 

_Of course._

Lance pressed forward with sobbing gasps. He needed to distance himself from the scene-- from the pain that crushed in on his chest and tore at his mind. Lance didn't make it far. The greater the distance, the more he felt the pull of his heart towards two men he'd run from. The further and faster he tried to run, the slower his stride became. His socked feet fell as heavy as stone with each step in this excruciating game of tug-of-war between his heart and body.

He didn't want to run away and leave them forever. Lance _wanted_ to be caught. Rather, Lance wanted to be someone  _worth_ catching. Maybe it was unfair, like a test, but he had to know. How much did they really like him? Want him?

_If they don't come after you, then you have your answer,_ A vicious voice in the back of his head hissed. 

He was only a few paces down from their apartment when he collapsed to the sidewalk. Any further and Lance worried they wouldn't be able to find him. The scene replayed in his head over and over-- the soft looks, the sweet voices, the closeness and affection. It projected like a movie in his head, overlaid by his own vile chanting:  _They don’t need you. They won’t come for you_.

Tears still blurring his eyes, he looked up to their shared apartment. The warm porch lights illuminated each door, but saw neither Keith calling out to him nor Shiro clamoring down the stares. No matter how long he waited, everything stayed peaceful and still.

Shame burned his cheeks as he choked on a sob. What did he expect? Some dramatic movie scene where his boyfriends ran after him and they all kissed in the rain? _This is real life, Lance, and it's not even raining._

It was real life and the scene in the living room was clear. Message received, _You're not wanted_.

Dark thoughts weaved their way through his mind like a spider spinning a web. All the times Keith sent soft smiles at Shiro when the other wasn't paying attention, the gentle glances and quiet whispers shared between the two. The way Keith would lean toward Shiro during conversations, body turned away from Lance. 

All the times Shiro touched Lance with his prosthetic and Keith with his real hand-- the way he'd trace his thumb over Keith's cheek, eyes bright. The way Shiro came home from a hard day's work to lay his head in Keith's lap and leave his feet to Lance. 

How he'd fight with Keith just to have those purple eyes turn toward him, Keith’s attention all to himself. How he’d greedily annoy Shiro with bad jokes just to have Shiro's hands on his body, playful and all his. Anything he could do to feel like he belonged. Like he mattered in their world.

Lance let the tears fall unrestrained, pouring the turmoil in his heart down his face. He was tired, resigned. He wished he could say _surprised_. But truthfully, there was a part of Lance that was preparing for it since the beginning. From the moment he was invited to join their relationship, he had waited for the other shoe to drop.

 _Their relationship_ , not his.

And now, that they'd confessed to each other, it was over. Lance was an extra, invited to spice up their sex life. There was no need to include him. They _loved_ each other. He laughed darkly. Cold acceptance settled in his chest and wrapped itself like a shield around his heart.

Lance looked up at the stars, finding Orion, his eyes automatically searched for it when he was feeling lost. The trio of stars never left him though the harsh summer or the bitter winter, through the deepest night or the darkest thoughts; they were a familiar friend whenever he needed. Orion was _home._  A connection between America and Cuba, between him and his family.  Recently, though, the meaning of Orion grew. It was still a bridge to his family, but it was also a budding symbol of his relationship. Three stars who's names he didn't know took on the names of Shiro, Keith, and himself. 

A shiver ran up Lance's spine. In his rush out the door he'd left his jacket and shoes. Part of him wanted the punishment, the bite of the air on his skin and the rough pavement on his feet. But there was no way Lance was sleeping on the sidewalk, so that left one option. It was time to be a man and face the consequences.

He stood up with a sigh, dusting the dirt from his slacks. The chill of the concrete left his butt cold and a bit numb. He wiped his tears with the neck of his polo, lifting it to run the inside down his face.

With a trembling inhale he gathered his courage, what was left of his pride, and made his way back to the apartment.

As he approached the door, Lance heard muffled arguing from inside. His hand hovered over the door knob, just shy of opening it, morbid curiosity filling him to the brim and spilling over. This was his chance to see how they really felt about him. No filters, for better or worse. 

Lance slowly and carefully turned the knob, holding his breath as he pushed the door open. The voices grew louder without the door’s interference, “We _need_ to go after him.” Keith’s voice was exasperated and strained.

Lance slipped inside, taking care so no noise would alert the pair in the adjoining room to his presence, and shut the door behind him. The only sound was the swishing of Lance’s clothes as he scooted in his dirty socks toward the living room.

He couldn’t hear their argument as well while he moved, every sound he made amplified tenfold now that he was trying to be silent. Once he’d settled himself on the floor behind the wall the separated the living room from the entrance, he peaked around the corner.

He could see Shiro sitting on the couch, arms folded, glaring up at Keith. “I can understand why he’s upset. He’s basically in love with love,” Shiro said, reaching out to stop Keith’s pacing.

“But we didn’t do anything wrong. I _do_ love you.” Keith ran his hands through his hair, tugging on the ends.

“Yeah, I get that. But try to see it from his perspective. Knowing him, he probably had his heart set on some elaborate confession between the three of us and there I went saying it without him.”

“I’m not saying sorry for telling you that I love you.” Keith’s voice rose with his anger, “I’ll tell him too and settle this.”

Lance ducked his head as Keith turned. _They loved him._ Lance swallowed a lump in his throat and guilt settled heavy on his shoulders. Something deep down told him it was true, but acknowledging it would mean opening himself up to more pain. He pushed the nagging feeling down. Maybe they did love him, fine, but they didn’t love him as much as they loved each other, _that_ he was certain of.

“Keith, calm down,” Shiro groaned. “That isn’t going to help and you know it.”

Lance gripped his shirt, fingertips digging into the skin around his chest. Shiro was right, even if Keith said that he loved him now, it was ruined. It was too late. He was an outsider from the beginning and he was an outsider now. He’d moved from seventh wheel to third wheel, but he was still extra weight.

The sound of Keith settling down into the couch let him peer around the corner again. Despite Keith’s angry voice, there were tears streaming down his face. Shiro’s borrowed sweater sleeve was being used as a makeshift tissue, soaked at the cuff. Shiro sat with his head in his hands and back hunched, making the large man look tiny even next to the smallest of their trio.

“It’s both our faults. We weren't thinking.” Keith ran a shaky hand through his already mussed hair. “We fucked up.”

It was a combination of Keith’s whispered confession and Shiro's broken demeanor that cracked the cold shell wrapped around Lance. He felt humiliated for eavesdropping when his boyfriends were worried about him.

Lance gathered himself up and grabbed the door handle again, slamming the door shut to announce his presence.

“Lance?”

“Lance!”

He rounded the corner to both men slightly raised off the couch, all eyes fixed on him.

“Hey,” he said weakly, staring intently at the floor.

Keith was by his side in an instant, pulling him in. Lance leaned into Keith’s touch, mad at himself that he needed the comfort.

“You came back,” Shiro’s voice was overly bright.

Lance let Keith lead him to the couch. He sat in the middle and tucked himself into Keith’s side. Shiro stayed perched on the edge, barely letting himself sit.

There was an awkward silence while they all tried to think of the right words to say. Lance picked at the smooth fabric of his work pants, head reeling. What if this was it? What if it wasn’t? Was he still okay with being in this relationship? Was it even healthy?

“I’m sorry, Lance,” Shiro said, words rushing out in one breath. “I wasn’t thinking. I was just so caught up in...” He trailed off biting his lip.

Lance nodded, finding a loose thread in the seam of his pants and twirling it between his fingers. He’d need to cut that off later.

There was another patch of silence. He knew they were waiting for a response, but Lance didn’t even know how he felt, so there was nothing to say. Any words would be a constant stream of disorganized feelings and he wasn’t going to let himself be exposed like that.

“ _Lance_.” Keith shook his arm gently.

He looked up at Keith for only a moment before dragging his eyes back down to the thread. “It's okay, I guess.”

Shiro growled low and Lance immediately shrunk into himself, tucking closer to Keith. Keith glared over his shoulder, a silent conversation taking place in front of him. He hated himself for being jealous of the small interaction.

“Look at me,” Shiro's voice was soft as he touched Lance's shoulder.

Lance lifted his eyes but not his head.

“I love you, I love _both_ of you.” Grey eyes were ringed with red, the only trace of Shiro's tears. 

Lance's heart fell to his stomach. He'd made Shiro cry, Shiro _never_ cried. Guilt ate him from the inside out and it took all his strength to mutter, “Okay.”

A tug on his chin made him lift his head. “I love you, do you understand? I need to know that you understand.” Desperation stitched the words together, Shiro's gaze never wavering.

Lance'd hurt Shiro and Keith, he could read it clear in every worried line and tense muscle. Ever so slightly Lance nodded and sighed, “Yeah. Yeah, I understand.” Keith squeezed his arm and Shiro's face melted into a soft smile.

He made the right choice. Everyone was happy. Lance fixed whatever he’d broken by interrupting them and running away. The heaviness over him pressed down on his chest and he forced a smile. Lance’s voice was weak and he coughed to clear it, “I’m tired.”

“Of course,” Shiro sighed, relieved. He shot Keith a look and quirked a thick eyebrow in question. “Why don’t we all head to bed, you can be in the middle tonight, okay?” 

Keith pulled away and stood up, holding a hand down for Lance. “Yeah, Lance in the middle.”

His side was cold at the loss but he took the offered hand with shaking fingers. Lance brightened his smile.

A boyfriend on each arm, they made their way to the bedroom. Lance took extra time on his skin care regimen, trying to block out the harsh whispers from the bedroom.

When he came to bed, Shiro and Keith split apart, making room for him in the middle. He crawled in, tucking his feet under the covers. Shiro got up to turn out the lights.

Keith kissed him on the forehead. “G’night Lance.”

Shiro pecked him on the cheek as he slid under the covers. “Night Lance, Keith.”

“Night, Shiro.” Keith leaned over Lance, hand pressing lightly onto his chest. The two men above him stopped short of kissing, grey eyes flashing down and back up before Shiro pulled away with a poignant shake of his head. Lance looked away, guilt gnawing at his insides.

With a sigh, Keith lay on his back and slipped his hand into Lance’s under the covers. Shiro turned to his side, pressing his back against Lance’s shoulder and entwined their legs. Soon the room was filled with the sound of soft breathing and quiet snores. Lance stared up at the ceiling fan. The bodies of the men he loved pressed close, yet he felt as if he was a wall between them and their happiness. Tears slipped out the corners of his eyes, pooling in his ears and wetting the pillowcase. His chest heaved with silent sobs and he clutched the sheet in his fist to keep from making noise.

_Good Night._

**Author's Note:**

> woo!! This was my addition to "Wouldn't be cute of Shklance was wearing each other's clothes?!?!" and I'm like yeah, that's cute, soooooo, How about we make it sad??? Tears can be donated to my angst jar which waters my whumpicorn who whispers sad stories into my ear. I also give out free hugs if you need them.
> 
> Super duper special thanks to Hytone195!!! for being a wonderful beta <33 and to Starbuck7 for sacrificing her time to beta when the Reverse Bang deadline is so close!
> 
> Also shoutout to Finnwritesstuff for being an awesome human and enabling me to live my whumpish dreams. *finger guns*
> 
> You can find me and my cool self on tumblr @Yuzuling and hanging out on Amino and Discord (Shance & Shklance but not Klance because they won't let me into their cool club)


End file.
